Books by Denise N. Fyffe

Advertisements

Spiritual Warfare – The Darkness Returns

Standard

Its 1:00 a.m. and I am not asleep. I have fought hard to not suffer a relapse; but, its 2:00 a.m. and I am up.

I felt my blood, charging through my arteries and veins to my ears and across my retina. I felt the thoughts in my mind scatter; in my mind’s eye I could see the tornado building, spinning, climbing higher and growing stronger. I was doomed. Anger, resentment, bitterness; these were a precursor to this and it had nowhere to go. It was not loosed to lash out on anyone, so it turned in on me. Again, it turned on me. This beast took years to tame, years to not flinch at its bite, years to numb the pain; it spent years feeding off of my hurt, my shattered heart and the decimation of myself. Now, I am vulnerable, again. Now my anger is unspent, my resentment is rich and my disappointment luxurious. It has much to feed on.

I am tired and I wanted to sleep, but they wouldn’t let me. My eyes fought to stay shut but my ears are super powered to pick up every sound, every disturbance in the night hours. A light sleeper; it’s been a blessing and a curse. They know this, but all I heard was chatter beating on the doors of my drowsy mind, demanding to be let in. I heard the light flutter of a female’s laughter, skipping over the threshold of my sleep. I heard the crescendo of laughter which escalates with utter disregard; the sounds of a male and female voice, not 8 feet away from me.
I am disturbed. My mind ripped of its only preferred lover. Vexed, angered, enraged… a fantasy of murder plays out before my eyes, inside my mind. The tears scamper freely, like preschoolers at recess and the darkness opens the door lets itself in. Now the adrenaline slowly surfs the Atlantic of my bloodstream, channels my heart and erodes my REM cycle. I am fully awake with 20 years of anger diving deep to my soul. Disturbed.